This is Episode 1-24 of a serial urban fantasy & paranormal story.

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Part 1-24: Grandstands

My vision went pure white. The tingles ignited into a hot, steady pain, like a full body sunburn. I gasped and hissed, then forced myself to focus. My body hadn’t exploded. The source of hurt came from above me.

I hissed again, quieter, and whispered, “I’m in. I’m in.”

“Power dampening, three minutes starts now,” I heard Deluxe say.

“Ferg says Willy’s standing up now,” said Dack.

I got up too. If I had my bearings correct, walking straight ahead would take me the right way. I took one step, then stopped and searched for the sensation of cool steel on my back. It took a moment, fighting through the maddening soup of broiling energy from above, but I found it. I fuckin’ found it!

I started to trot, fueled by an insane, giddy notion that I had figured it all out. I went into the white nothing, hoping it would clear up and that I was right about being able to ghost through hard objects. After a few seconds of not bashing my face into any walls, I leaned into the trot and ramped to a full out sprint. There was nothing I could see to show me I was actually moving. But the burning gave me a clue: the source was now at my back.

Then a few moments later, I could see stuff streaming by. It was all wavy nonsense, but I could tell I was going through it.

“93% power,” I heard Deluxe say from right in front of me, and I skidded and stumbled before my instincts recovered from the double me situation. Then I was off again. Things became clearer as I got further from the router. Tree shapes melted into view. Occasionally, I saw smudges of blue. And of course, there were solid white shapes along the ground every now and then.

“85%. Two and a half minutes ‘til full outage.”

I poured more speed into my legs, aware now that I wasn’t feeling out of breath. The pain from the wifi dulled back into mere tingles.

I said, “Can you two hear me?”

No response. Too much concentration on running. I made the choice to keep going instead of stopping to anchor on the door’s cool touch. The tingles faded, and my vision cleared fast. I could see where I was headed, and tried to remind myself I could run straight through trees if I wanted. I had no trouble letting their thin branches blast past and through me—they were tougher to see anyway—but I could not bring myself to charge headlong through a trunk. I figured I was a novice spirit and that it was going to take some time to get used to.

I came out of the woods and onto the outfield. Here I did stop for a moment, struck by the sight. The players all had their plumes of smoky blue, but the stands! Oh mercy, the stands were a pair of giant blue bonfires. Eden chose to stand by the grandstand along the third base line, which was on my right. I wasn’t sure if it meant to take down both or just the one. I squinted and noticed that there were a lot of the pearls in the area around Eden’s stands. They were moving too. Circling.

“33%. One minute until we’re down all the way.”

“Willy is still standing, motionless, facing the back of the stands. You there, Alena?” said Dack.

Now that I was still, I could feel the steel better. I focused.

“Here. At the field. You hear me?”

“We hear you. You’re sitting right… man, this is so weird,” he said.

I ran, making a wide arc through left field so I could approach Eden from the side or behind. I knew if I looked up and over my right shoulder I’d see the giant clock. I could only hope it couldn’t see me.

I watch. Eden’s words echoed and gave me little comfort, so I kept my mind on the grandstand, and on running as fast as my detached, tireless body could go. The tingles were gone except for where I touched the book: a scratching in my right hand.

Then I was around the field. I saw a brighter blue blotch behind the stand.

“Ten percent, eighteen seconds. Configured my best shot at an amplifier, standing ready to execute,” said Deluxe.

I moved toward Eden now, coming in at an angle, hopefully in its blind spot, if creatures like Eden had such things. The pearls were everywhere, and I wove around them, having never tested touching them before. There were big ones too. Some hundred feet behind the stands there was a blob the size of a truck waiting near the same north-south path where my bird friends had died.

I stopped fifty paces from the blue specter, who showed no signs of noticing me. It stood before the stands, waiting.

“Coming down in five seconds.”

“I have eyes on it,” I said.

“She’s quote-unquote there too,” Dack said. Then a moment later, “Fergus says ‘atta girl.’”

I wanted to look around for him, but then Eden pressed its fingers and thumbs together, like I’d seen Willy do at the lamppost. Blue light bloomed on the pipes, starting near Eden, then spreading out in a neat, satisfying pattern. It was pretty.

The pearls began to quiver and bob. They moved faster now, silent little sharks, sensing their feeding time. The big one oozed closer. I couldn’t hop around them and keep an eye on the stands at the same time, so eventually one scooted through my foot. It didn’t do anything except leave a tingle and a chill, but it was more than enough to make me shudder all over.

“How we lookin’?” asked Dack.

“Get ready,” I said.

“All’s stable here,” said Deluxe. “Wait.”

“Wait what?” said Dack.

“Picking up… something.”

I squeezed my hands together in a tight fist. There was a rising tightness in my chest as I watched the pipes fill up, the whole structure was almost complete. Eden showed no signs of dissolving.

Blue, white, black, boom: that’s how the pop can went. Unless I misremembered. No time to worry about that now.

“On my mark,” I said, having to close my eyes for a quick beat to find the steel door.

“Rogue network’s in play, Alena. Faint but oscillating in. Still ready,” said Deluxe.

The stands pulsed blue, shading to white with every thrum. The crowd sighed as something happened on the field. A dog barked.

Pulse pulse pulse. Full white.

A monster loomed into view. It was the car-sized pearl, but now it had a swarm of legs hoisting it up. Little wormy things sprouted from it, jiggling and stretching themselves towards the stands.

Before I could take it in, a spattering of black spots popped onto the white pipes like a bunch of pimples, and I saw a strand of smoke peel off Eden.

“Now. Now!”

“Full up!” said Deluxe.

Nothing happened. No explosion of white. The black spots grew, and the pearly horror slouched closer, its crooked, bendy legs pushing it higher out of the ground.

“Deluxe? What’s going on?” I said.

“I don’t know! I don’t know! Give me a second!”

The black splotches were coming together. There weren’t any seconds left. So I sprinted full tilt at Eden, skidded up to it and swung my leg into its spiritual nutsack.

 

Continued in Part 1-25

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